In the Fog by Richard Harding Davis (best fiction novels of all time txt) 📗

“I have heard nothing of it. Tell us at once, pray do—tell us at once.”

The American flushed uncomfortably, and picked uneasily at the tablecloth.

“No one but the police has heard of it,” he murmured, “and they only through me. It is a remarkable crime, to, which, unfortunately, I am the only person who can bear witness. Because I am the only witness, I am, in spite of my immunity as a diplomat, detained in London by the authorities of Scotland Yard. My name,” he said, inclining his head politely, “is Sears, Lieutenant Ripley Sears of the United States Navy, at present Naval Attache to the Court of Russia. Had I not been detained to-day by the police I would have started this morning for Petersburg.”

The gentleman with the black pearl interrupted with so pronounced an exclamation of excitement and delight that the American stammered and ceased speaking.

“Do you hear, Sir Andrew!” cried the member of Parliament jubilantly. “An American diplomat halted by our police because he is the only witness of a most remarkable crime—the most remarkable crime, I believe you said, sir,” he added, bending eagerly toward the naval officer, “which has occurred in London in many years.”

The American moved his head in assent and glanced at the two other members. They were looking doubtfully at him, and the face of each showed that he was greatly perplexed.

Sir Andrew advanced to within the light of the candles and drew a chair toward him.

“The crime must be exceptional indeed,” he said, “to justify the police in interfering with a representative of a friendly power. If I were not forced to leave at once, I should take the liberty of asking you to tell us the details.”

The gentleman with the pearl pushed the chair toward Sir Andrew, and motioned him to be seated.

“You cannot leave us now,” he exclaimed. “Mr. Sears is just about to tell us of this remarkable crime.”

He nodded vigorously at the naval officer and the American, after first glancing doubtfully toward the servants at the far end of the room, leaned forward across the table. The others drew their chairs nearer and bent toward him. The baronet glanced irresolutely at his watch, and with an exclamation of annoyance snapped down the lid. “They can wait,” he muttered. He seated himself quickly and nodded at Lieutenant Sears.

“If you will be so kind as to begin, sir,” he said impatiently.

“Of course,” said the American, “you understand that I understand that I am speaking to gentlemen. The confidences of this Club are inviolate. Until the police give the facts to the public press, I must consider you my confederates. You have heard nothing, you know no one connected with this mystery. Even I must remain anonymous.”

The gentlemen seated around him nodded gravely.

“Of course,” the baronet assented with eagerness, “of course.”

“We will refer to it,” said the gentleman with the black pearl, “as ‘The Story of the Naval Attache.’”

“I arrived in London two days ago,” said the American, “and I engaged a room at the Bath Hotel. I know very few people in London, and even the members of our embassy were strangers to me. But in Hong Kong I had become great pals with an officer in your navy, who has since retired, and who is now living in a small house in Rutland Gardens opposite the Knightsbridge barracks. I telegraphed him that I was in London, and yesterday morning I received a most hearty invitation to dine with him the same evening at his house. He is a bachelor, so we dined alone and talked over all our old days on the Asiatic Station, and of the changes which had come to us since we had last met there. As I was leaving the next morning for my post at Petersburg, and had many letters to write, I told him, about ten o’clock, that I must get back to the hotel, and he sent out his servant to call a hansom.

“For the next quarter of an hour, as we sat talking, we could hear the cab whistle sounding violently from the doorstep, but apparently with no result.

“‘It cannot be that the cabmen are on strike,’ my friend said, as he rose and walked to the window.

“He pulled back the curtains and at once called to me.

“‘You have never seen a London fog, have you?’ he asked. ‘Well, come here. This is one of the best, or, rather, one of the worst, of them.’ I joined him at the window, but I could see nothing. Had I not known that the house looked out upon the street I would have believed that I was facing a dead wall. I raised the sash and stretched out my head, but still I could see nothing. Even the light of the street lamps opposite, and in the upper windows of the barracks, had been smothered in the yellow mist. The lights of the room in which I stood penetrated the fog only to the distance of a few inches from my eyes.

“Below me the servant was still sounding his whistle, but I could afford to wait no longer, and told my friend that I would try and find the way to my hotel on foot. He objected, but the letters I had to write were for the Navy Department, and, besides, I had always heard that to be out in a London fog was the most wonderful experience, and I was curious to investigate one for myself.

“My friend went with me to his front door, and laid down a course for me